If I have learnt anything, it is that life forms no logical patterns. It is haphazard and full of beauties which I try to catch as they fly by, for who knows whether any of them will ever return?Margot Fonteyn

It's every two verses have to rhyme.And if you think about it, the Santa myth does not need a whole lot of alteration to revert it back to its true and original piratey form.Boots. Red regalia. Loot-bag for hat. Flying Ship. Midgits work for him.

If I have learnt anything, it is that life forms no logical patterns. It is haphazard and full of beauties which I try to catch as they fly by, for who knows whether any of them will ever return?Margot Fonteyn

T'was in the December of the year of 1763,By the banks of the silvery River Tay, in the fair city of Dundee,That the poet William McGonagall had the idea that perhaps he,Should write a poem about the impending holiday called Monkey.

"I don't mean to sound bitter, cynical or cruel; but I am, so that's how it comes out." ~ Bill Hicks."To argue with a person who has renounced reason is like administering medicine to the dead." ~ Thomas Paine."One should not believe everything one reads on the internet." ~ Abraham Lincoln."If you're making a political point wearing a balaclava, you're a c***. It was true for the IRA and it's true now." ~ daftbeaker.

T'was in the December of the year of 1763,By the banks of the silvery River Tay, in the fair city of Dundee,That the poet William McGonagall had the idea that perhaps he,Should write a poem about the impending holiday called Monkey.Ah yes! And so he tossed and turned all through the night,Thinking about what he would write..

T'was in the December of the year of 1763,By the banks of the silvery River Tay, in the fair city of Dundee,That the poet William McGonagall had the idea that perhaps he,Should write a poem about the impending holiday called Monkey.Ah yes! And so he tossed and turned all through the night,Thinking about what he would write..

And he thought and he thought and he tossed some moreAnd he left unpleasant stains upon the floor...

The smoke wafted gently in the breeze across the poop deck and all seemed right in the world.

T'was in the December of the year of 1763,By the banks of the silvery River Tay, in the fair city of Dundee,That the poet William McGonagall had the idea that perhaps he,Should write a poem about the impending holiday called Monkey.Ah yes! And so he tossed and turned all through the night,Thinking about what he would write..

And he thought and he thought and he tossed some moreAnd he left unpleasant stains upon the floor...This left McGonagall in an unpleasant quandary,Whether to clean up the mess himself, or ask his maid to take it to the laundry?

"I don't mean to sound bitter, cynical or cruel; but I am, so that's how it comes out." ~ Bill Hicks."To argue with a person who has renounced reason is like administering medicine to the dead." ~ Thomas Paine."One should not believe everything one reads on the internet." ~ Abraham Lincoln."If you're making a political point wearing a balaclava, you're a c***. It was true for the IRA and it's true now." ~ daftbeaker.

T'was in the December of the year of 1763,By the banks of the silvery River Tay, in the fair city of Dundee,That the poet William McGonagall had the idea that perhaps he,Should write a poem about the impending holiday called Monkey.Ah yes! And so he tossed and turned all through the night,Thinking about what he would write..

And he thought and he thought and he tossed some moreAnd he left unpleasant stains upon the floor...This left McGonagall in an unpleasant quandary,Whether to clean up the mess himself, or ask his maid to take it to the laundry?But the maid was a girl who hailed from InvernessAnd never before had she set eyes on such a mess

The smoke wafted gently in the breeze across the poop deck and all seemed right in the world.

black bart wrote:T'was in the December of the year of 1763,By the banks of the silvery River Tay, in the fair city of Dundee,That the poet William McGonagall had the idea that perhaps he,Should write a poem about the impending holiday called Monkey.Ah yes! And so he tossed and turned all through the night,Thinking about what he would write..

And he thought and he thought and he tossed some moreAnd he left unpleasant stains upon the floor...This left McGonagall in an unpleasant quandary,Whether to clean up the mess himself, or ask his maid to take it to the laundry?But the maid was a girl who hailed from InvernessAnd never before had she set eyes on such a mess

FA LA LA LA LA, LA LA LA LA!

* If evolution is just a theory, religion is just an opinion.* You never know when I'll be watching.

T'was in the December of the year of 1763,By the banks of the silvery River Tay, in the fair city of Dundee,That the poet William McGonagall had the idea that perhaps he,Should write a poem about the impending holiday called Monkey.Ah yes! And so he tossed and turned all through the night,Thinking about what he would write..

And he thought and he thought and he tossed some moreAnd he left unpleasant stains upon the floor...This left McGonagall in an unpleasant quandary,Whether to clean up the mess himself, or ask his maid to take it to the laundry?But the maid was a girl who hailed from InvernessAnd never before had she set eyes on such a mess

A passing American said "FA LA LA LA LA, LA LA LA LA!",Which was a bit of a problem as it didn't fit in with the rest of the poem at'aa,But McGonagall thought he should persevere,And see if he could get something a bit more salient to the subject at hand written down here,

"I don't mean to sound bitter, cynical or cruel; but I am, so that's how it comes out." ~ Bill Hicks."To argue with a person who has renounced reason is like administering medicine to the dead." ~ Thomas Paine."One should not believe everything one reads on the internet." ~ Abraham Lincoln."If you're making a political point wearing a balaclava, you're a c***. It was true for the IRA and it's true now." ~ daftbeaker.

Roy Hunter wrote:T'was in the December of the year of 1763,By the banks of the silvery River Tay, in the fair city of Dundee,That the poet William McGonagall had the idea that perhaps he,Should write a poem about the impending holiday called Monkey.Ah yes! And so he tossed and turned all through the night,Thinking about what he would write..

And he thought and he thought and he tossed some moreAnd he left unpleasant stains upon the floor...This left McGonagall in an unpleasant quandary,Whether to clean up the mess himself, or ask his maid to take it to the laundry?But the maid was a girl who hailed from InvernessAnd never before had she set eyes on such a mess

A passing American said "FA LA LA LA LA, LA LA LA LA!",Which was a bit of a problem as it didn't fit in with the rest of the poem at'aa,But McGonagall thought he should persevere,And see if he could get something a bit more salient to the subject at hand written down here,

Although he was still a-wonderyAs to how the maid might actually get the floor to the laundry,